Embers
by thatweirdtheatrekid
Summary: Erik didn't leave Christine that fateful night. How could he? She was his everything. This is the story of the starts of Phantasma and the people who stood behind the man who was Erik Destler all told in Christine's point of view. From the author of The Power of the Music and A Light in the Dark
1. Chapter 1: Beneath a Moonless Sky

Chapter 1

 **Ready for another adventure?**

 **Special thanks to those of you that have supported me through the years. This is the start of something else good, and I hope you all enjoy it! - E. B.**

"I planted some roses in the garden today," I said in attempt to break the dreadfully long silence that had paraded Raoul and my dinner.

"You really shouldn't be doing that," Raoul said as he shoved another piece of meat in his mouth. "That's why we have servants. Really, Christine, I thought you would be getting used to that by now.

I nodded and tried my best not to cry. I had tried for weeks to convince myself that I was happy, but the truth was that I was miserable. All I had to do all day was sit and maybe read if I happened to find a book I hadn't read yet. "I'm sorry, darling."

"It's no matter," Raoul said as he reached over to pat my hand.

"Did you have a good day?"

"In all honesty, Christine, I'm not in the mood to talk about it."

I nodded sadly. "Well, if you change your mind, you know I'll be here to listen."

"That's sweet of you, darling, but I think I need to finish up some business. I'll be upstairs when you're ready to say goodnight."

I nodded. He was going to leave me to finish a meal by myself again. "You aren't planning on working tomorrow night, are you?"

"I sort of was. Why do you ask? Is there something going on tomorrow?"

I was devastated. "The wedding, Raoul, we're getting married tomorrow. We _are_ getting married tomorrow, right?"

"Ah, of course!" he said kissing my forehead. "Yes, we are getting married tomorrow. Goodness, I suppose the date slipped up on me didn't it. Well, for you, I will not work tomorrow night if that is what my bride wishes."

I gave him a small smile as he tapped my nose like one would a child. "That would make me happy, Raoul. Thank you."

"Well, I'll do it for you, but I'm really busy. I'll be in my office."

"Alright."

And that was that. That's how every night had gone. I was tired of it. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't crazy, that I was just still adjusting to life outside the opera house. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to go, but I knew I had to get out of there at least for a little while.

I left my dinner unfinished on the table and when upstairs an hour or so behind Raoul. I tapped on his office door, and he told me I could come in.

"Raoul?" I said softly. "I think I'm going to retire early so I can get some rest for tomorrow. I just came to say goodnight."

I saw him down a drink before he turned around. He stumbled and hit his leg on his desk. He was drunk. I had never seen him drunk before.

"Yes, yes, I'll see you tomorrow," he said pinching the bridge of his nose. He sounded annoyed with me.

"Aren't you going to say goodnight?"

"Goodnight, Christine. Go to bed," he slurred.

I gave him a slight curtsy and turned around to leave, but he caught me by the wrist making me cringe slightly with pain.

"I _will_ see you tomorrow, Christine."

I nodded slightly confused as to why he was behaving such a way. "Yes, you will."

The grip on my wrist tightened, and I couldn't hold in my squeal. "Promise me, Christine," he growled.

"I promise," I whimpered.

He let me go, and I took off running to my bedroom. I locked the door behind me as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt awful. I want to know what I had done to upset him. He had never behaved that way towards me before. Was it the wedding? Did he not want to marry me? Was I not good enough for him? I really wanted some air, but I didn't want to make Raoul angry. He wouldn't want me out in the middle of the night. The only other logical solution to the situation was to sleep, so I tried to.

Oh, god, did I try to sleep. I just couldn't do it.

I lied there for what seemed like hours, but when I raised my head, it was only 10:30. I couldn't stand it. I wrapped my robe around my waist and snuck out of the estate. I had fully intended on just going for a walk. I needed the air to clear my head. I had walked around the house twice when the light from Raoul's bedroom flashed on.

His window flew open, and my heart fluttered in a panic. "Christine!" he yelled. "Get inside, dammit! Don't you dare cry, Christine!"

I hid my glassy eyes. "Please, Raoul, I was just walking around the grounds."

"You're a liar! You're a little liar, Christine!"

I knew he only said it because he wasn't sensible, but it hurt. His words cut like a knife. I was crying like a child, and he told me not to cry. I turned around and started to run. I really wasn't thinking. My feet just pounded against the ground. Raoul was yelling, but between his slurred speech and loud voice, I couldn't tell what he was saying.

I ran into the stables and slung myself on a horse. I spurred it to run as fast as it could go. Perhaps I was being overdramatic, but I couldn't help it. I needed to leave. I needed the fresh air. I would be back to marry him in the morning, and he wouldn't even remember what happened.

When I felt that I had gotten far enough away from the mansion, I slowed the horse down to a trot. No one was in sight except for some girl in a pale blue dress that was some great distance away. I wiped my tears as I let the white mare travel down the street in any direction. I didn't really care where it took me. It just so happened that I passed the girl.

"Meg?"

She gasped and clutched her hand to her breast. "Christine? What are you doing out this time of night?"

"I – I just needed some air."

"You should be resting. It's nearly midnight! Aren't you to be married in the morning?"

I slowly nodded. "Yes, but Raoul and I got in a fight. I just needed to get out for a while."

Meg looked around to make sure no one was watching them and approached Christine's horse. "If you promise to tell no one where we are or mention to my mother that you were there, you should come to the cottage we've been in. I miss talking to you desperately."

Christine nodded and helped her friend on to her horse. Meg directed the way until they were in an old, deserted cottage just on the edge of the city. It was obviously once a lovely place. It was surrounded by trees and in a pretty little secluded area. They tied the mare to a tree and left it some water before Meg tugged her into the house.

"Mother's asleep," Meg said in a low voice. "We can't wake her, but I have to tell you something."

"Yes, Meg," I whispered back. "Tell me whatever it is."

"Christine, it isn't exactly easy to say. We have to hide here because… because…"

"Because what, Meg?"

Meg took in a shaky breath and leaned in closer. "I know where your angel of music is, Christine."

The breath hitched in my throat as my shaking hands rested in Meg's. That was the last thing I was expecting to hear, but for some reason, it felt good. Some form of hope that had been asleep in me was reawakened.

"Where is he?" I whispered shakily.

She shook and looked around nervously. "Christine, he – he's here."

The room was spinning around me. I thought I was going to faint, but I knew I had to resist. "Pl-please, Meg, let me see him."

"Christine, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Please, Meg," I suddenly, desperately sobbed, "I need to see him. I need proof that he's alive."

Meg looked around and took the lit candle in her hand. "Promise me you'll scream if he does anything to upset you."

"Meg, he would never hurt me."

"Promise, Christine."

"Fine," I sighed, "I promise."

She handed me the candle and took out a key from her pocket to open a door to a cellar beneath the house. Timidly, I descended down the dark, cold stairs, my heart racing at what I might find. I heard the lock click behind me. Meg must have locked the door behind me.

As I descended down the stairs, I heard whimpering. As my feet quietly touched the last stone step, I could barely see in the bit of starlight shining through the small barred window near the ceiling my angel sitting in the corner on a pile of hay. He was singing something under his breath as his hands appeared to subconsciously grope and pull at his hair. His knees were drawn to his chest and his foot was tapping impossibly fast. He looked like a mad man that shouldn't dare be disturbed, but something about him was still so entrancing. I didn't even have to think about walking towards him. I just suddenly found myself kneeling at his side. My hand gently rested on his and pulled it away from his hair.

I had apparently frightened him because he jumped back. "Angel, it's me," I said softly.

He retreated back into his shell, pulling at his hair again. I heard him mutter something like, "She's not real, she's not real, she's not real…," and my heart broke into a million pieces.

"Angel, it's okay," I whispered as I rested my hands on his again. "I'm here. It's your Christine."

His teary eyes looked up at me, and suddenly they were filled with rage. "Get out of here, you figment of my insanity!" he yelled. He lunged for me, and I felt his hands clasp around my neck. His icy blue eyes bore chillingly into mine as I desperately tried to pry his fingers from my neck. I had never realized how strong he really was. I felt nothing but panic as I tried to worm my way out of his grasp.

Then all of the sudden, the determination in his eyes melted, and his grip loosened. I fell gasping for air, but he caught me.

"Christine," he muttered in a breathy whisper. "You're real. Oh god, you're real." He knelt to the ground, still holding my trembling body against him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Christine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he said through tears.

I had every reason to be angry, but I wasn't. Somehow I immediately forgot what even happened when I heard his heart pounding beneath my ear. I just hugged him. I needed him.

He let go of me and shook his head. "You probably hate me. I'm so sorry, Christine."

I just held him tighter and cried against his shirt. "Don't let me go, Angel. Please, I want you to hold me."

Timidly and shakily, he wrapped his arms tenderly around me.

"Why did you let me go, Angel?" I whispered through my tears. "I chose you, and you let me go. Why?"

"Christine, you deserve to be with someone who can give you fine jewels and furs – someone who can give you mansion and everything you've ever desired. What can I give you? A few pieces of sheet music?"

"I don't want jewels. I don't want furs and country-side villas. I just want love."

"Raoul loves you, Christine."

I shook my head slowly. "He loves the idea of me. You love me. Do you want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"You gave me a choice. You always give me a choice. You just want me to be happy. Raoul thinks I'm supposed to turn into this aristocrat that I'm not. I just can't take it anymore! I hate coming home to silent dinners and separate bedrooms. I hate kisses that feel more like obligations than tokens of love. I hate living in that place! I feel like a caged bird that isn't allowed to sing! I hate it!"

"Shh, Christine, it's alright," he said as I clutched my throat. It hurt from the bruise he had left when I yelled. "Wait. Christine, he won't let you sing?"

Tears flowed from my eyes as I looked at the floor. "It's not what a Vicomtesse is supposed to do." He looked at me in silence as I dried my eyes with the back of my hand.

He gently reached over and pulled my hand in his lap. He stared at it for a moment before tracing the bruise with his fingertips that Raoul had left earlier. I didn't have to tell my Angel who did it. He knew. Slowly, as if time was being slowed down by molasses, he pushed my sleeve back and pressed his lips to my wound, I could have sworn that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.

"Angel, I –"

"Christine," he said cutting me off, "my name is Erik."

"What?"

"Stop calling me an angel when you know I'm not. My name is Erik."

"Erik," I whispered, savoring the way it sounded to hear his name roll off of my tongue.

He released my hand as he stared into my eyes. He was so close. I wanted him to kiss me more than anything, but it was in that moment that I realized something: Erik never did anything I didn't give him permission to do first. He didn't touch me until I touched him. He never made me sing. It was always my choice. He never grabbed my hand. He offered it to me to take. I had to show him that this was okay.

I only had to lean in a little for our lips to meet. He was paralyzed the same way he had been when I had kissed him the first time. I put my hand around his neck forcing him closer. Eventually, he gave in, his soft lips wrapping around mine. I could have sworn that I felt the blood course through every vein in my body right in that moment. This time I was the one paralyzed as I felt his hand tangle in my hair. I began to feel more alive, more free, as he ironically wrapped me tighter in the cage of his embrace. My fingers subconsciously popped the first couple buttons of his shirt, but he quickly pushed me away.

"Christine, I can't," he whispered. "We can't."

I felt my cheeks deeply flushing as I looked away from him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't misunderstand me. I want you. You're all I've ever wanted."

"Then have me."

I could tell that both of us were astounded at the words that came out of my mouth. I didn't mean to say that. It just happened. I expected him to be mad or even so shocked that he just ran away, but I was proven extremely wrong. After just a minute moment of staring at one another, his mouth hungrily crashed into mine. I had never been kissed like that before. It felt like I had been set on fire. It wasn't like Raoul's kisses. This was passionate. It made me feel loved. I popped open another button of his shirt as his hands roamed up the back of my dress and then my corset.

I could hear it start to rain outside as Erik's lips kissed along the bruise that throbbed on my neck. A couple of cold drops of water hit my hot skin. It felt as though all of my senses were heightened as Erik made love to me. Despite the dark, I could see his eyes twinkling in the starlight as he looked at me. His heart was like music, and the scent of his cologne was fogging my thoughts. His fingertips delicately brushed over every inch of my skin. One would expect his hands to be rough from his years of playing his music, building things in the basement of the opera, and whatever else he could possibly get into, but his hands weren't rough. In fact, they felt like silk.

Some hour later on, Erik pulled a thin quilt around the both of us as I lied on the pile of hay, my mind so overloaded and tired that I couldn't hold my eyes open. I fell asleep to the sound of Erik humming in my ear as he kissed the back of my neck.

I was convinced that that was the best night I would ever have in my entire life. I wasn't Raoul's caged lark anymore. I was free. I was loved, and most of all, I was complete when I was in Erik's arms. I don't know why it had taken me so long to see the mysterious, dark man's light.


	2. Chapter 2: The Great Escape

Chapter 2

When the sliver of light that from the high barred window in the cellar, I slowly felt myself waking up, but I didn't dare move. Erik's arms encased my body in a tender but protective embrace, and he was softly snoring into my hair. I felt a smile come to my face hearing him. It made him seem much more human. I closed my eyes just listening to him and sunk a little deeper into his embrace. It wasn't long before everything became quiet. I felt him shift a little, and his arms came out from around my body. I heard him get up and start to put on his clothes.

"Where are you going?" I timidly asked as I sat up and wrapped the thin quilt around my chest. My voice was hoarse from where Erik had grabbed my throat the night before.

He paused and looked at me with a confused look on his face. "I was going."

"Going where?"

"I don't know," he stuttered barely above a whisper. "I figured you wouldn't want me here."

"Why would I not want you here? I never want you to leave."

"Christine?" A glimmer of hope suddenly appeared in his blue eyes.

"I love you."

His eyes quickly filled with tears, and he sunk to his knees before me. I quickly cradled his head as he laid it in my lap, his fingers curling around the quilt. "Oh, Christine," he sobbed, "I never thought I'd hear you say that. I thought you'd hate me."

"Angel, I could never hate you," I softly said as I stroked his hair. "No, I love you."

He sat up with tears streaming down his face. I softly removed his mask. He still flinched, but he let me do it. I brushed the back of my hand across his deformity.

He sobbed and caught my hand between both of his. "May I kiss you, Christine? Please, let me kiss you."

I softly chuckled and gripped his hands. "Erik, yes, you don't have to ask."

He grabbed my face and kissed me passionately. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, my hands untying the top of his shirt. As we were falling back in the pile of hay as we were the night before, I heard footsteps rushing down the stairs.

"Christine?" I heard Meg whisper urgently.

Erik swiftly wrapped me in his quilt as Meg came into view. She gasped and quickly turned away as she saw us.

I grabbed my clothes and began to swiftly tug them on with Erik's help. "Meg, what's wrong?" I whispered as Erik pulled my corset tightly.

"My mother just woke up! If she finds out Christine is here, she'll be upset. Furthermore, if she finds out what the two of you apparently did last night, she'll murder all of us!"

I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Erik huffed and turned me around as he finished lacing up my dress. "I might have a plan," he grumbled. He forced himself past Meg and started up the stairs. "Stay here. Don't come up until I come for the both of you."

He slammed the door at the top of the steps. Meg jumped and ran towards me grabbing my arms. "Christine, what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, and it felt good to not think for once, Meg," I defended myself. I had never talked to anyone that way before. I sounded so careless and free. "I've spent the past few months having panic attacks and break downs. I didn't know who to go to. Well, I stopped thinking with my head, Meg, and I listened to my heart. It felt good. I finally feel like I know where I belong."

"Hiding in a wine cellar on a pile of hay as opposed to a mansion surrounded by jewels?" Meg asked folding her arms.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I belong in Erik's arms, and I don't care if that's in an old wine cellar or in a castle in the richest country in the world. I just want to be by his side."

"Christine, you sound like a pathetic love sick little girl."

"Maybe I am, but I'm happy. You can't talk me out of this, Meg. I love him."

"Christine, he's crazy. He's a murderer. Do you even hear yourself?"

"He would never hurt me. He's not the same. Like I said, you can't talk me out of this."

Meg sighed and looked over me. "I just want you to be happy, Christine. I would never forgive myself for bringing you here if something happened to you."

"Nothing will happen to me. I promise." I hugged her. "Thank you for bringing me to him, Meg."

"Well, you're welcome I guess," she giggled. She turned a stared up the stairs as if she was hoping he would come down. "Christine?" she asked timidly as she turned around with pink cheeks. "What was it like?"

I felt myself blush as well. "Meg…"

"You don't have to tell me. It was a stupid question."

"No, Meg, it wasn't," I whispered. "I would be lying if I said I didn't want to tell you at least a little bit."

"Then spill," Meg giggled as she grabbed my hands.

"Well, if I'm completely honest with you, it was wonderful."

"Did it hurt?"

"A little, well, a lot actually, but –"

"Damn it!" I heard Erik shout after I heard a loud bang.

Meg rolled her eyes. "I swear he's hit his head on that door frame more times than I can count," she's muttered. "I think he forgets he's tall."

I couldn't help but laugh a little as he came into view, his hand rubbing a place on his forehead where I had assumed he had hit it.

"Is Mother gone?" Meg asked him urgently.

He nodded. "Yeah, go upstairs, both of you."

Meg dashed up to the living room as I stood motionless like a statue. "Christine, what's wrong?" Erik asked gently as he noticed I remained unmoving.

"Where am I supposed to go, Erik?" I found myself saying, my voice breaking at my tears.

"What do you mean, Christine?"

"Erik, I just remembered I was supposed to marry Raoul today." I sighed and looked at my engagement ring and then back at Erik. I slid the ring off and tossed it out the cellar window. "Screw that."

For the first time, I saw my angel laugh for real. It wasn't evil. He was simply happy.

"I'm serious, Erik," I grumbled. "I can't stay here if we're all so afraid Madame Giry will find out. I can't go out to the city. Raoul probably has God knows who looking for me."

"Then we'll run away."

"And just where will we go, Erik?"

Just then, he pulled three boat tickets out of his pocket. "I smuggled these from a guy I know that's big into shipping. If we can make it to Calais by Tuesday morning, we can board the boat, and we'll be gone."

"Where is the boat going?"

He smiled and grabbed my hand. "It's going to New York City. Just think, Christine, it would be a new start. We could start a life together, and no one would ever have to know about our past. It wouldn't be about reputations. It would just be us – Erik and Christine Destler taking on the world together."

"Erik and Christine Destler?" I asked staring at our hands intertwined.

He nodded. "That could be us. I mean, it can be if you want it to be."

"And if I go with you, are you asking me to marry you?"

"Only if that's what you want, Christine," he said stepping a little closer.

I grabbed him and kissed his lips hungrily. "When do we leave?"


	3. Chapter 3: Hidden in the Woods

Chapter 3

 **Sorry for the wait. I've been head over heels in marching band season, and I'm in a play right now on top of college stuff, so yeah, being a senior is fun but super stressful. Lucky for you, I use some writing time to destress. Sorry this chapter isn't great. Better stuff to come. Hang in there. - E. B.**

"I shouldn't have come," Meg muttered to herself for about the fiftieth time that day. "I should have stayed with Mother. She's probably worried sick. She's probably in a rage. Oh, I am so ashamed of myself! What was I thinking?"

"Megan, if you don't shut your infernal mouth, I can and will shut it for you," Erik groaned earning a glare from myself, not that he could see it since I was behind him.

My mind wandered off with the quietness that occurred after Meg had stopped muttering. It was one o'clock. I should have been married yesterday. Raoul and I had planned on taking our honeymoon in his countryside villa. I wondered just a little bit about what he was doing right in that moment. Was he looking for me, or was he sitting drunk in his office mourning the embarrassment of his chorus girl bride running away causing him to call off the wedding.

I looked around as the birds chirped all around us. We were in the countryside, but it certainly wasn't a villa. I became acutely aware of that as Erik sat on a large stone and set my bag down – the bag he had insisted on carrying despite my argument.

"We'll rest here for a while. You both need to rest your feet," he mumbled.

"Erik, we've only been walking about an hour. Meg and I can make it a little further," I objected.

"Rest now or rest later – it doesn't really make a difference does it?"

"I just don't want us slowing down too much. We could be caught."

"We're not going to be caught, Christine. Why would you doubt my hiding skills?"

"Well, you have been found before."

I immediately knew I shouldn't have said that, but I couldn't help myself. He was making me so angry. He had been sulking all day, not to mention he was being overprotective of me. I felt like it was because he hadn't slept the night before. He insisted on being the one to stay up and watch. He claimed he was used to going without sleep, but I was starting to question that because he hadn't been so sullen the night before. Then again, neither had I.

I saw anger flash in his eyes, but it went away almost just as quickly. He folded his hands and put them in his lap.

"You were found because of me," I quickly added. "It was my fault. I don't want to be held responsible for something like that again."

He sighed heavily and let his shoulders slump. "Rest, Christine," he said without looking up at me, "and rest your voice. You're hoarse which was my fault, so I suppose we're even."

Giving in, I sat some distance away from him. Meg was leaning on a tree not too far away. She looked horrible. We should have never asked her to come with us. I crawled a ways over to her and grabbed her hand as she softly sobbed.

"As soon as we get the money, we'll send for your mother, Meg," I said in attempt to comfort her.

"I should just go back," she sobbed.

"No, Meg, you can't go alone, and we can't go back. Think of what you might find in America. You can get a job, and we can go shopping in New York. Who knows? Maybe you might even meet somebody, and you can have a big, nice, white wedding that will be more amazing than anything Erik and I will have because we're poor."

She kind of chuckled and wiped her eyes. "It's no use, Christine. Even if I wanted to send for my mother, Erik would never allow it. You know how he is."

"I might be able to convince him."

"Would you try?"

"I certainly will."

"What if he says no? What if he says you can't discuss it anymore because he's the head of you?"

I smiled and shrugged. "Someone once told me that the man may be the head, but the woman is the neck."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she can turn the head any way she wants to."

Meg smiled and threw her arms around me. "Thank you, Christine; you're such a great friend!"

I smiled back and hugged her before returning to where I had been sitting before.

"You know I can hear you," Erik said nonchalantly as he whittled down a stick with the knife he had in his pocket.

I just glanced back at him a little afraid of what he might say. "I'm sorry, Erik. I didn't mean anything by it. I just-"

He put his finger to his lips silencing me. "It's alright, Christine. We will send for Madame Giry. I owe her that much."

I smiled and silently thanked him. There was a long period of silence between us. I glanced over some time later only to find Meg sleeping soundly against the tree trunk. I twirled the lace of my skirts between my fingers as I listened to the soothing sound of the leaves rustling in the breeze.

"Christine," I heard Erik say softly, "come here."

I picked myself up and dusted off my skirts before sitting on the rock beside him. I didn't really know what to expect from him. He still seemed so sullen, but much to my surprise, he simply leaned over and planted a lingering kiss on my cheek.

"I love you, Christine," he said softly.

I smiled and rested my hand on the good side of his face. I rubbed my thumb across his rough chin. It felt odd. He looked different without having shaved in a couple of days.

I watched his eyes as he glanced back at a sleeping Meg and then back at me. Though he tried to hide it, I could see a little bit of lust cross his expression as he glanced back at me. I couldn't help but smile as I grabbed his face to give him what I had intended to be a quick kiss, but he arms swiftly wound around my waist locking me tightly in his embrace as he pressed his lips roughly against mine. I stroked his arms as his mouth trailed from my lips, around my jaw, and down the side of my neck. I could have given into him again then and there, but he pulled away.

"Erik," I whispered as he stroked back my hair and pressed his nose to my cheek, "how long until we get to Calais and America?"

"We'll be to Calais by nightfall, and then it's a week 'til we reach New York Harbor. Why?"

"Erik, when we get to New York, we will get married as soon as possible won't we?"

I could feel him smile against my cheek. "I never thought I would ever hear such a beautiful girl say those words to me. Of course, Christine, we can get married whenever you wish. Are you sure you don't want the nice wedding you dreamed about as a little girl? I can wait as long as you'd like, Christine. I just want to call you my wife."

I shook my head. "I just want to be your wife. I don't care when or where. I sort of got over that girlish fantasy in the midst of planning a wedding with Raoul."

His sigh grazed my jaw as he ran a hand along my waist. "I don't understand, Christine. Why would you be willing to marry a mad, deformed man on the side of a New York street before a handsome young lad who loved you and could give you everything you ever wanted?"

"He couldn't give me everything I ever wanted, Erik."

"Name one thing."

"You."

I could see tears form in his eyes as he pulled back to look at me in the face. I could tell he was holding them back. I knew he didn't want me to see him cry. I grabbed his face and planted my lips reassuringly on his as I allowed him to pull me as tightly against him as he wanted.


	4. Chapter 4: All Aboard

Chapter 4

 **Two short chapters this time. Sorry to say neither of these chapters lend to length. I promise things will speed up in chapter 6 though. - E. B.**

"Erik, are you sure about this?" I asked nervously as I wrung my hands.

"Christine, do not doubt me."

"What if someone recognizes Meg?"

"They won't. She looks too different. Besides, no one probably even noticed the dancers in the background of that picture in the paper. They were all too focused on the starlet."

I sighed and watched as Meg walked up the loading dock. Erik was right. She did look different. I had put her mass of blonde curls up in a twisted bun, and we had swapped dresses. She looked much older, much more mature. It almost struck a chord of jealously with me as I realized she looked so much more beautiful than I. She opened her pocket book and showed the man her ticket. He nodded and gave her a smile.

Meg's job was to distract the man so Erik and I could around the back and get on board without him even noticing. When she had asked me how she was supposed to do that, I told her to faint or something along those lines, but she surprised me with what she actually did.

I noticed how her gloved hand delicately rested on the man's arm as he laughed about something she said. The ticket taker's eyes looked over her greedily as she stepped closer. I was horrified. I could have never imagined my dearest friend behaving such a way. I was in such a state of shock, Erik had to grab my arm and pull me away to get us on the ship.

We snuck down halls to get to our room without anyone noticing. Finally when the hall in which our room was located had been cleared of people, Erik pulled me by the wrist in front of our rooms.

He pressed a brass key that he had somehow managed to grab off of the frame without anyone noticing into the palm of my hand and held my wrist against his chest. "If you need anything, I'll be right across the hall. Meg should be here soon. Keep the doors locked, and try not to leave. If anyone knocks and you have to answer, remember to put a scarf around your hair or something, and try to keep your face concealed."

"They can't do anything if we're halfway to America can they? I mean, even if Raoul has people looking for me, they can't force me back to France can they?"

"There are marshals on this ship. If Raoul has a warrant or claims you're mentally insane or anything of the sort, they can take you without question."

I gulped down my nerves and tried not to show the fear that was in my eyes, but nothing I did could go unnoticed by Erik. He kissed my head and pushed back a strand of my hair in a comforting way.

"Don't be afraid, my angel," he said soothingly. "I'm here. Nothing is going to harm you. No one is going to take you away from me."

"Erik," I said softly, "don't take this the wrong way, but why am I staying with Meg?"

"What do you mean?"

I blushed. "I just thought… well, I mean, I just thought… if we're on this boat for a week and a half, I just thought you would want me to be with you."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I would like that very much, but you wouldn't want me in your way. Besides, if you're with Meg, she can get you food or anything else you might need."

I sighed and folded my arms around my body. "What if I want you in my way?"

"What if you need something?"

"Meg isn't neglectful. I'm sure she will check in on the both of us."

"It isn't exactly proper for us to be staying together is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well, I'd say we've passed the point of propriety. If you don't want me to stay with you, why don't you just say so?"

Just then, two men rounded the corner of the hall, and Erik grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his room faster than I could even realize what was going on. He slammed the door shut and locked it before turning around to face me with a sigh.

He shrugged with a smirk on his face. "Well, we can't leave now. I suppose you're just going to have to put up with me."

I smiled and tossed the brass key to the side. "Well, I suppose that will have to do."


	5. Chapter 5: Why Can't the English?

Chapter 5

 **Bonus points if you know what the chapter title is a reference to. - E. B.**

I sat on the edge of the bed and towel dried my hair from where I had washed it in the sink of our little room. It felt so nice to get at least somewhat washed up after travelling through the woods the previous days. Meg had brought me a fresh dress which I was more than anxious to change into. I quickly slid my dress – or should I say Meg's dress – off of my shoulders causing Erik to turn around faster than I could blink.

I sighed as I unlaced my corset and slid it off. "You don't have to turn around, Erik. It's not like it matters."

He didn't say anything, but I could clearly see how tense his shoulders were. As quickly as I could, I slid the dress on. "You can turn around now," I said with a sigh as I gathered my discarded clothes.

He silently sat on the bed facing me and stared at his hands. I shoved the old garments in a drawer and sat beside him. I rested my head on his shoulder and placed a hand on his leg which was bouncing up and down in a nervous twitch.

"I hope you know this is going to be a very long week if you keep being so quiet."

"You'll forgive me when I say that I've never really had anyone to talk to."

"I know," I said tilting my head up towards him, "but you've always talked to me – face-to-face or not. My being here doesn't make any difference."

He smiled. "What a perfect angel you are, my own sweet Christine."

"Perhaps we need a goal for the week."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps we need something to accomplish to make the week go by faster."

He chuckled and looked over my face. "And what on earth did you have in mind, my darling?"

"Teach me English."

"What?"

"Teach me English. I've never been to America. The only English I know is what came from _Dido and Aeneas_. Heaven knows I can't go around singing about drinking poison. Goodness knows what people will think of me."

He chuckled. "Yes, sing Dido's lament to everyone. To tell you the truth, Christine, they probably won't even care what words you sing. They'll be too much entranced by your beautiful voice."

"You flatter me too much, Erik."

"I don't think that's possible."

I hit him playfully on the arm. "Stop that! Now, are you going to teach me English or not?"

He nodded. "I suppose I can do that. You do realize learning an entire language will take more than a week though don't you?"

"Yes, I know, but I thought we could try. Just teach me enough to get around the city."

He nodded. "Alright, henceforth, I shall no longer speak to you in French but in English. Do you understand?" he asked suddenly switching tongues on me.

I looked at him wide-eyed and shook my head. " _Quelle_?"

He laughed. "Exactly."


	6. Chapter 6: All I Ask

Chapter 6

" 'Ow nice to meet you," I said slowly as Erik and I sat face to face.

"How," Erik said as he exaggerated the _H_. He laughed and patted my knee. "Very good though. I think you're getting the hang of it."

"Hang it?" I asked wide-eyed.

"Hang _of_ it," he said. "It means that you're catching on."

I looked at him, still confused.

He sighed. "Catching on? It means you're learning quickly."

I nodded, and he stood up to straighten out his trouser legs."We should be coming to shore by tomorrow morning I would think. It will be nice not being cramped up here in this little room don't you think?"

I simply nodded again. I didn't quite catch everything he said, but I had learned a lot of English in that week. I suppose being cooped up for 24 hours each day for seven days with a language that isn't your own forces you to learn a thing or two. Erik was a man who was very particular as well. He wanted me to speak with perfect pronunciation and grammar. It was almost as if he were trying to make me the perfect English lady instead of a French immigrant to America.

"What do you call this?" I asked holding up a discarded article of clothing from the floor.

"That is my tie," he said gently before taking it from me and wrapping it around the collar of his shirt.

"Tie," I repeated. He nodded his approval.

"And this?" I asked touching his chest.

"A button," he replied.

"Button. And this?"

"Jacket," he said as my hand grazed his tense shoulder.

"Why you not touch me?" I asked as my fingers made their way to his hand. "You only touch after I touch you first."

"Why do I not touch you?" he half-corrected, half-asked himself. I nodded. "I am afraid," he said slowly so I would understand.

"Of what?"

He sighed and brushed my hand away. He didn't answer as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. I decided not to bother him, and I just curled up across the room up against the wall. I looked about the room and tried to remember the English names of everything, but it was hard to focus when all I could think about was how I might not be good enough to him.

He never touched my hand unless I touched his first. More often than not, he would hover his hand about my face, but he would not touch me unless I pressed my cheek against his palm. Little did he know that all I dreamed about all week was what it would feel like if he just grabbed me and planted his lips on mine the same way I did the very first time we kissed.

I shivered just thinking about it.

I heard him walk up behind me and place his jacket around my shoulders, his hands careful not to even graze my dress. I felt a tear slide down my face as he turned and went back to his respective area, busying himself with some paper that was left in the room. I tried to stifle my sobs, but of course, Erik had ears like a bat.

"What's wrong, Christine?"

Wanting to convey my feelings accurately, I switched to French. "This is what it was like with Raoul – no affection, just discipline. I thought I was running away from that. I guess not."

I could see how the words cut like a knife as he visibly tensed his shoulders. He gasped in a breath to start to correct my language, but he quickly stopped. Instead, he breathed a sigh of pity and hesitantly sat on the edge of my bed with his hands on his knees. I eyed them longingly. I wanted to feel his arms wrapped protectively around me once more. I needed it.

Timidly, he rested his cool fingers around my arm, and I immediately jumped into his embrace. He was taken aback by how welcoming I was to his touch. Only now do I truly understand how afraid he was in that moment.

He softly rested his hands against my back as my tears stained the shoulder of his shirt. "Don't you understand? This is all I ever wanted from you."

"But I'm a monster, Christine. How could you ever wish for my touch?"

I knew nothing I could say would change his mind, so I just said the only thing I could to make him understand how I needed him.

"I love you, Erik."


	7. Chapter 7: A Day in New York

**I'm thinking about writing a My Fair Lady fanfiction. I would not give up this one of course, but I've written three Phantom fan fics. I would like to try my hand at something else for a change, but I don't want to do it unless I know someone will read it, so will anyone read it? - E. B.**

"Where are we going? You don't even know do you? You tell me to shut my trap and keep walking, and you don't even know where we're walking to!"

"Meg, I swear on my grave if you don't shut your incessant jabbering, I will wring your neck!" Erik shouted as we trudged along.

My boots dangled from his grip as we went. The heel had snapped off of my right shoe about two hours before, and now I was simply roaming the streets in what was now a dirty day dress and torn stockings. I trusted Erik to get us somewhere, but inside, I wanted to complain like Meg. We had been walking for hours with nowhere willing to give us lodging for the little bit of money we had. It appeared to be a lost cause. We would be sleeping on the ground, and in all honesty, that would have been just as well with me as long as it meant we could sit down some place.

"Wait here," Erik demanded with a huff as he went into about the twentieth place that day. Our ship had docked very early that morning, and after sneaking off the ship, we were left to figure out what in the world to do.

I could see from the window that Erik was arguing with the bartender. Dread immediately filled me as I knew we would be rejected again. Erik hung his head as he leaned over the bar and the bartender gesticulated wildly. Finally, I saw Erik march past the bar and pull the pianist away from his post. I sensed Erik's anger as I watched his fingers fly madly across the keys. Within a few seconds, the sounds coming out of the bar almost completely subsided, and Erik's music came flooding out of the building into the streets catching the attention of several passers by. Gradually, people floated into the bar eventually crowding out the place until Erik's descent into his own madness had ended.

Meg and I leaned on the window railing to get a better look as he appeared to be dealing with the bartender. It seemed like ages before Erik came out to get us, but he did. He scooped up Meg's small bag and motioned for us to come inside.

We were led upstairs to a room that consisted only of a dusty bed, a tiny three-drawer dresser, and a desk with some paper and a worn out quill. I started beating the dust off of the bed with my glove as Erik stood in the doorway with the bartender.

"Look, you keep bringing in customers like you did tonight, you stay and three hot meals a day. They start getting bored with what you play, you're out. Do you hear?"

Erik nodded. "What if I bring in more than you expected? Will you pay me what I'm owed?"

"I'm giving you free food and lodging for you to tickle some ivories all day. What more do you want? You want a little extra change? I'll pay the girls to wait on people when it's busy, but it won't be much, mind you."

Erik looked behind his shoulder with a sigh. "Fine."

"Oh, and whatever you do, don't take off that weird mask. It caught attention tonight. It gives a certain mystery to you. People like that."

Erik nodded as the bartender grabbed the door and slammed it shut as he went out. He turned around looking shy and helpless.

"It's not much," he said quietly, "but it's enough to get us by until we can find something better. You two go to bed. It's been a long day."

"Where will we sleep? There's only one bed... sort of," Meg muttered as she sat down on it. The wretched thing gave an awful squeal in return.

"You and Christine share the bed. I need to write something to play tomorrow," he replied.

"Erik, no," I interjected. You're the one working. You sleep there where you'll be comfortable.

He gave me a small bow as he shook his head. "No, Christine, I will be content here at the desk. I'm not even tired. Now, snuff out those candles by the bed and sleep. You will need it."

Meg (refusing to wear her nightgown with Erik in the room) and I immediately pulled back the patchwork quilt and laid down with a loud groan of protest from the bed. We laid very close in the tiny thing. Meg was asleep almost immediately, but I found it difficult to fall. I watched past Meg's shoulder as Erik shrugged off his coat and paced for a moment. He ran his fingers through his hair which was secretly one of my favorite habits of his. Eventually, he snapped his fingers as an idea came to his head. He pulled back the chair and plopped down it before frantically dipping the dingy quill in ink. He scribbled away until he filled up the first page. Then just before my eyes closed as I gave into slumber, I saw his hand tug at his mask and set it beside him on the desk. I smiled seeing it gone. I couldn't see his face, but knowing he was comfortable with removing it while I was in the room made me happy, even if he did think that I was fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Jobs

Chapter 8

 **Thank you everyone for your support! Sorry that I have been away from the computer for a while, but I'm back and better than ever! I received some questions that I'd like to answer really quickly.**

 **1.** **POTOLND-his Christine forever: I am not envisioning either cast in particular. They are more the characters come out of my imagination. At first, in The Power of the Music, I had envisioned more of the Australian cast, but the more I write, the more I realize that they can really only be the characters in my head. You can envision whoever you'd like. J**

 **2.** **Marzz:** **The My Fair Lady fanfic is up and running. Please go check it out! I'd really appreciate it. It's under movies instead of shows.**

 **Thank you all again for your support. I very much appreciate it. I will be trying to update more now that I am finished with the play and choir competitions. Now I'm down to rehearsals for Music Man, scholarship essays, and band trips (Just when you thought life was slowing down for a bit… Oh well.) I adore every single one of you.**

 **If you have any questions about this story or any other one I have written, I always enjoy reading and answering your questions. Feel free to PM me or ask them here in the reviews.**

 **Much love as always – E.B.**

Meg and I leaned over the bar, a towel dangling in my fingertips as I swayed my hand in time with Erik's music. It was almost always quiet in the bar now. No one talked. They were all too busy listening to the magnificent sounds that came from the little upright in the corner. Occasionally, someone would wave for a drink, but it was always done without them taking their eyes off of the piano. Though we had been through many struggles in our short time in America, it was almost worth it as I just watched people oo and ah over Erik's playing. It was the praise he had always deserved but never received. He was finally getting that praise, and it overjoyed me more than I could ever express.

We had been living upstairs over the bar for nearly three weeks. We had not made much progress much to Erik's dismay. Between Meg and myself, we had earned enough to purchase some of the measly items we needed to survive, but it wasn't enough to pursue buying our own place for sure. For the time being, it appeared that we were stuck. I had already faced that reality, but nothing could ever satisfy Erik. He desperately tried anything he could. Anytime he thought someone who could give him a job came into the bar, he always showed out. He'd play with one hand, write more complicated pieces in the night time, sing and play, and even turn around and play with his back to the piano. Many people inquired about his work, but almost nothing came out of it. He had received one offer to play for a children's chorus, but Erik said that might be his worst nightmare. The thought of all those curious children with their "dirty little paws" running up and tugging at his mask made him shudder.

He was beginning to get restless though. He had told me the day before that if he didn't get some sort of other offer by the end of the week, he was going to take the children's chorus job. He was tired of living cooped up in our little room. (Truthfully, I think he was sick of Meg, but being the gentleman he is, I knew that he would never admit it.)

It just so happens that the next night, Erik received a letter from a Dr. Rupert Gangle from one of the better parts of Manhattan inquiring about his ability to play jazz music. Erik had never heard of jazz, but he still wrote the doctor back claiming that he had, and he would be happy to play it as long as it included a salary. A messenger boy brought another later the next day assuring him that a small sum would be included.

With that, Erik took the letter down to the bar's manager. The gruff thing seemed genuinely offended that Erik no longer wished to work in "such a fine establishment." He almost kicked us out, but Erik assured him that Meg and I would work without salary, and the greedy man was pacified at least for another week or so.

The doctor met Erik about two days later downstairs at the bar. I was serving that night and heard the whole thing. I suppose, at the time, Erik thought me too ignorant to eavesdrop, but I did so.

The man's name was Dr. Rupert Anatole Gangle. He had a heavy Russian accent and said that he had immigrated to America from there a couple of years prior. Erik inquired as to what kind of doctor he was to which Dr. Gangle replied that he was a surgeon. He explained that he and some of his friends were in a jazz band and were paid to play in the lobbies of various hotels about town. He asked if Erik had a nicer suit, and Erik went into our long story as to how we more or less escaped France and had brought very little with us.

Erik called me over then, and the two men got off their chairs to stand side-by-side. I was asked if I thought the two men could share clothing to which I assured them that they probably could. The following morning, a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper and string arrived with "Eric" scrawled out on top to which he rolled his eyes at the misspelling.

Later that evening, Erik walked out behind the little folding wall looking dapper in the extravagant American suit the doctor had lent him. He looked like the confident phantom again, and I will admit that my heart raced a little as I noticed how the black trimming made his broad shoulders stand out.

He was gone a few moments later only to return in the wee hours of the morning. He woke me as the door clicked, and I carefully sat up as to not wake Meg. He smiled at me, and without a word, he held up three or four little green slips of paper in front of my eyes. I gasped and jumped up to hug him.

"I think this is going to work," was all he said.


	9. Chapter 9: Blessing in Disguise

Chapter 9

"You should come."

"You know this, Erik. I have to work," I breathed through a heavy sigh, "unless you want to sleep on the streets tonight. Come here. Let me tie your tie. It's lopsided again."

He strolled over, and I went to work on the black sliver of fabric. "Tell him you're sick. It's not like he's going to come up here and check. Meg will lie for you. Won't you, Meg?"

She folded her arms and shot him a glare. "I have to work then, huh? I can't come and see your show?"

"Meg, don't be that way. Christine is my – my… well, anyway, it's different, and you know it."

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Sure, whatever, I'll cover for her, but I'm doing it for Christine, not for you. Let's just make that clear."

"I'm not asking you to do it for me anyway."

I tied off Erik's tie and pecked Meg's cheek. "Thank you, Meg. Erik, what am I supposed to wear? I have two dresses, neither of which are nice, and you're playing in an extremely luxurious hotel."

He shrugged. "It's a hotel. They see people come and go with all different outfits on. They probably won't think anything about it." He chuckled. "Besides, if they realize you're a musician's wife, they'll probably realize we can't afford anything extravagant anyway."

I sighed and untied my apron. "Well, I guess I'm going like I am then."

He squeezed my hand and then kissed the back of it. "I'm glad you're coming. You'll enjoy it. I promise."

Two hours later, I found myself captivated as I watched the band play. I sat at a table not too far away from them. I was close enough to tell that Erik was sweating from the strength he was putting in to pounding the keys of the piano.

When they finished their fifth song and announced they were taking a break, I knelt down beside the piano stool and blotted at his forehead with my sad little handkerchief, decorated with a hole instead of my initials. He sighed gratefully.

"Your husband works too hard," said the doctor with a laugh as he leaned with his elbow against the piano.

Christine blushed as he said the word husband. Should she correct him? She decided against it. "I know," she replied. "He always does."

"Gangle, this is my… umm… well, we're courting," Erik finally decided, "Christine."

"Courting! Oh, forgive me for making assumptions!" he smiled and kissed the back of my hand. "Erik, you need to make her your wife before too long, or the New York bachelors will be knocking on your door every few minutes. She's awfully beautiful."

I felt my cheeks growing red. "Erik would scare them off I'm sure, but thank you for the compliment."

Erik's visible cheek grew bright pink, and he quickly excused himself to the washroom leaving Dr. Rupert Gangle and I alone.

"How long have you known Erik?" Gangle said as he lit the cigarette that was dangling between his lips.

"Since I was seven," I replied as I pulled myself off of the floor.

"Wow, he said you were almost nineteen. Why, that would have made him 20 years old at the time you met."

"Yes, he looked after me when I was a child."

"Good man. He taught you to sing too?"

"Yes, sir."

"You should sing with us some time."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. I don't know anything about jazz. This is my first time hearing it tonight."

"Really? That's a shame. It's an interesting sort of music. I'm sure you could pick up on it no problem. A lot of jazz is just improvisation."

"I'd be too afraid that I would mess your lovely sound up."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"You play your trumpet wonderfully."

"Thank you, miss. Music might be my favorite thing in the world. I didn't want to be a doctor, but my father told me I had to do something to secure an income. Music would not have accomplished that in Russia. Little did I know at the time I would come here."

"What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Russia."

He smiled and turned to me. As he was enthusiastically telling me about the colors and the architecture, Erik returned which required them to go back to their music. I didn't quite understand who this doctor was or why he felt compelled to help my husband and I so, but I understood quite well that he was a blessing to us both.

The band finished playing around midnight and began to pack their things. Dr. Gangle stood divvying up the tips from the jar as the hotel manager laid a few bills beside him on the piano. As Erik was helping the double bass player get his instrument back into his case, I saw out of the corner of my eye the doctor slip a bit of his share into Erik's pile. I wanted to tell him that Erik and I weren't a charity case, but deep down, I knew that we kind of were. He looked up and saw me looking at him, and with teary eyes, I mouthed a quick thank you to which he just smiled and tipped his hat to me before Erik took my arm and led me outside.


	10. Chapter 10: A Quilt

Chapter 10

A month later, I found myself shivering cold for the first time in my life. It was true that my father never made substantial income when I was younger, and once in the opera, I wasn't exactly wealthy. However, I had never gone cold and hungry. I did that winter.

Meg and I curled close to one another in the bed with Erik's shirts draped over us for extra warmth. I looked into the little fire place in our room and wanted more than anything to go get some coal for a small fire, but I knew better. If we were ever going to get to out of that blasted bar, we were going to have to scrape by for a little while longer.

It reminded me suddenly that I never really knew how much Erik had earned. I knew he kept a journal of our expenses and income, but I had never seen it. After Meg was asleep, I creeped out of bed being careful not to disturb her. She pulled all of the blankets over the top of her body. I sighed. There was no going back now.

Quietly, I rambled through the drawers until I found the little navy pocket book. It took me a while to understand what it was saying since I could barely read English, but I understood enough to know that what money we had and the cost of one of the apartments Erik had listed were compatible figures. I smiled to myself and put the book back where it belonged. We would be out of there soon I imagined.

0-=0-=0-=0-=0-=0-=0-=0

The next morning after Meg had already gone downstairs, I approached Erik about what I saw in his notebook. He seemed confused at first. He accused me of not trusting him to just tell me what I needed to know. He couldn't stay mad at me long though after I explained that I was simply curious.

"Christine, I must talk to you first," he said gently as if I were a child. "I know that you're anxious to get out of this place, but I have a plan that could triple the amount of money that we have right now within the next couple of months."

"Within the next couple of months? Erik, I nearly froze last night," I said trying desperately to hide my disappointment.

"I know," he said softly. "Please, bear with me, Christine."

I sighed. "What's your plan?"

"I'm going to build a park."

"A park? Erik, New York already has one of those."

"No, Christine," he said, "not like this. Imagine a place people pay to go to that has side shows, food, rides, shows, and anything else you can think of that's entertaining. People would pay to amuse themselves. It would make more money than we would know what to do with. Christine, if it works, I could give you anything your heart desires."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. That sounded like a stretch, and I knew good and well that something like that would take a lot longer than a couple of months.

"If I can get it started," he said leaning towards me, "it will slowly start making money. It will be like a quilt. I'll sew it together piece by piece. Imagine it, Christine. With this place, I could build anything your imagination could dream up, and people would pay to see it."

A tear rolled down my cheek at that point. _Quilt_ – a quilt was all my heart desired at the moment. "But that's just it, Erik, it's only in your imagination. How would you ever get the money to start something like that?"

"Christine, you just have to trust me. I have a plan."

"And while you're out here making your dreams come true, what am I supposed to do? Lie in the bed shivering until you get home past midnight every night? When will it end, Erik?"

He looked hurt, but in that moment, I didn't care. He told me he wanted to give me everything my heart desired, but he was too blind to see that all I wanted was somewhere to sleep and not have to worry about catching pneumonia.

"You can help me if you wish," he said shifting uncomfortably. "My dreams are made for you, Christine. I want to do this so I can give you the world."

"I don't want the world, Erik!" I snapped. "I want a blanket and a clean dress. That's all."

He stepped away from me and looked at the floor. "And I'll give that to you. You just have to trust me."

I bit my lip and tried to stop the tears. "Alright," I finally answered, "I'll trust you, but just know it's only because I have no other choice."

With that, I left to go to work… again.


	11. Chapter 11: Upstairs

Chapter 11

A week went by, and to my surprise, it went rather well. Erik's plan was to start incorporating magic tricks in with their band performances. He was already getting a reputation for his unusual tricks and talents. I was actually shocked at how quickly people were coming in to see him. The hotels were enjoying it too. It meant more clientele, more people drinking at the bars, and more people staying in rooms after the show was over, which it always ran late.

We had been in New York for a month. It was honestly the worst month of my entire life, and I hadn't exactly had the best life to look back on. Despite this, I tried to keep in good spirits because I knew I could have had it off much worse.

November had transitioned into December, and, if possible, it got colder. When Erik got home every night, he would shake snow out of his boots and off of his coat. Meg and I clung to each other each night for warmth, but to tell you the truth, all I ever dreamt about was sleeping beside Erik with his arms wrapped around me, not that he dared to touch me unless I touched him first. I hadn't even felt his hand for weeks.

I suppose that's what put me in a very rotten mood one day in particular. The owner of the bar had already irritated me. He said that I looked like the very devil. I rolled my eyes and went on, but later that day as I turned and saw my reflection in the barroom mirror, I realized he was right. There were gray bags under my eyes, and my once prettily messy curls were now just a matted up mess that I attempted to hide underneath a tearing scarf. I brought my hand to my mouth with a gasp and saw my overgrown, chipped fingernails. No wonder Erik hadn't touched me, if I weren't myself, I wouldn't dare to touch me either.

I felt Meg put her hand on my back and rub a sympathetic circle. "Don't worry, Christine. You're still beautiful."

"I'm not," I sobbed, "I look terrible. I might as well live in the streets."

"You haven't looked like this since we've been here though," she said pointing to my face. "You're so pale. You look sick. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

I said yes, and that was the truth. I woke up feeling just fine, tired, but healthy. It wasn't until after lunch that I got up and realized that I was indeed not alright. I felt dizzy suddenly. I put my hand to my forehead, and Meg stood up to steady me.

"Are you alright, Christine?" she asked softly.

I nodded. "Yes, I think so."

"I don't think you are. Why don't you go upstairs?"

"Yeah, go upstairs," reiterated the bar tender. "I can't have you around the food and drinks sick."

"And I can't take off for the day," I sighed as I put my arms around my trembling body. "You won't let us stay."

He sighed. The bar tender was a crude man, but he was smart enough to realize he needed the cheap labor. "Just go," he said. "I'll let you stay just this once."

I fumbled up the stairs and weakly sat on our little squealing bed. To be honest, I really didn't feel sick. I was just queasy. It was an odd sort of feeling I didn't know how to explain. Once I had sat for a moment, I felt fine. I got back up to go back downstairs, but my feet took off to the washroom down the hall where my stomach decided to rid itself of the foul food it had taken in at lunch.

When I was finished, I leaned against the wall and cried. This couldn't be happening. I was sick, and with the situation we were living in, there was no telling what sort of disease I had contracted. It probably wasn't curable. I would probably die and never see what Erik had in store. What was I going to tell him? Actually, I wasn't. I would just live until I was bedridden. It would be easier that way.

I coughed again and leaned over the basin once more.

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Meg went downstairs that night because she couldn't sleep. It was a good thing too. I didn't want her to stay with me. I didn't want her to get whatever I had. Erik came in past midnight again. He seemed excited. I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had purchased a small patch of land. He and Gangle were going to go the next day and build a small stage that the band could fit on. Erik was going to rig it to help him do better magic tricks. He had already come up with his pseudonym. Gangle was making posters that said, "The All-American Ragtime Band and the Amazing Mr. Y!"

"Get it?" he said happily. "It's like mystery, but you say it Mr. Y."

I nodded and smiled weakly. Much to my surprise, he reached out and grabbed my face, his hands caressing each of my cheeks. "Don't you see, Christine? Things are finally going right for us! It's only been a week, but it feels like a day. Oh, my Christine, we'll be out of here before you can snap your fingers!"

I smiled again and rested my hands over his. His thumbs stroked my cheeks, and as they did so, his smile slowly faded away.

"Christine, he said softly, your face feels warm."

I nodded. "Yes, I'm just a bit under the weather today. That's all. I am fine." My stomach growled loudly just then, and I cursed under my breath.

"Are you hungry? I'll sneak you something to eat from the kitchen. I know the owner is probably passed out drunk in there, but I can get by him. Just tell me what you need, Christine, and I'll do it."

"I can't eat," I said, my voice breaking. "I've tried."

He sat on the edge of the bed, his concerned eyes studying my face. "Christine, you are more than under the weather aren't you?"

I nodded slowly. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Erik, but I get the feeling that it's probably not good, and I'm afraid."

He opened his mouth as if to say something but just shook his head. "Christine, I don't know what to say. For the first time in my life, I'm not sure what to do. Perhaps Gangle would see you for no charge."

"No," I quickly intervened, "he's done so much for you already, and I don't want him to see me like this. I am not a charity case."

He sighed in defeat. "What do you want me to do then?"

"Just forget I ever told you I was sick. Just stay here and hold me. That's all I want." I sniffed and wrapped my arms around his waist. He held me tight and kissed my head, and I fell asleep right there, for the first time in over a month feeling oddly safe.


	12. Chapter 12: A New Life

Chapter 12

"Are you sure you're alright?" Meg asked as we stood drying dishes.

"Yes," I nodded with certainty. "I feel better and better every day."

"You're still running to the washroom an awful lot though."

I sighed. "I know, but that's the only time I feel bad. It's always right before I get sick, but then I feel fine."

"Does Erik know you're still… you know?"

"No," I mumbled, "he doesn't, but I don't want him to worry. I haven't been sick at night anymore. He says that I'm lucky it was just a bad cold and that it wasn't much worse. He's been checking my head every night to make sure I don't have a fever."

"And have you had one?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't, not since that first night I was sick."

Meg suddenly put the glass she was drying down and bit her lip.

"What?" I asked as I glanced over her concerned expression. I chuckled. "Do you think you know what I have? Do you think you'll get it?" I asked teasing her as I licked my finger and held it towards her face.

"Gross! Stop that!" she protested as she batted my hand out of the way. "Yeah, I think I know what you have, and I'm extremely thankful that I can't catch it."

I knitted my eyebrows together and looked over her. "What on earth are you talking about?"

She leaned out of the kitchen to make sure no one was around who could possibly here. She stepped closer to me and grabbed my arm. "You and Erik made love didn't you?" she asked softly.

I felt my cheeks grow hot. "You know the answer to that question. Why must you tease me about it?"

"I'm not," she said slowly. She looked at me intensely in the face. Then she glanced down to my stomach and back up at my face.

I dropped the wine glass I was holding, and it shattered.

The sound brought both of us back to reality as we knelt down to clean it up before our boss came in and noticed.

"Meg, you don't think I really might be…?" I asked. I could hear my voice shaking, and I could see my hands doing the same as they tried to pick up the bits of glass.

"Yeah," she said seriously, "I really think you might be."

I sat on the floor and leaned against the cabinet with a great heave. My hand subconsciously made its way to my stomach. I could be with child – Erik's child. That thought never came to my head. She was right though. I had every sign that I could be.

Meg threw away the glass and knelt beside me. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "I'm in such a state of shock. I'm almost certain you're right though now that I think about it."

"Are you going to keep it?"

"Meg, what kind of question is that?" I asked appalled. "Of course I am." I stroked my stomach as I felt my heart race.

"I don't know," she said defensively. "It's just that we aren't living in the best of situations, and I don't think lard butt is going to let you off because you're expecting," she said rolling her eyes as she referenced to our boss.

"My father wasn't in the best of situations either when he raised me, but he didn't give up. I'm not giving up on this child either, no matter how hard it may be."

She sighed and leaned on the cabinet beside me. "What are you going to tell Erik?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. I looked at my hand. There was life growing there, and I had somehow been oblivious to it. "I guess I have to just buck up and tell him the truth."

Meg bit her lip. "Christine, I hate to ask this, but I feel like, as your friend, it's something you need to think about."

"What is it?"

"What if… what if the child… is like Erik?"

I smiled. "Do you mean difficult and stubborn as a mule?"

"Christine, this is serious."

"I will love them just like I love Erik," I replied.

"That's easy to say now, but what about when they come?"

"Meg, you just want me to give up this baby don't you?" I asked beginning to grow angry.

"No, Christine! I want you to have this baby. You deserve it and the happiness it can bring. I'm just worried. Childbirth isn't exactly the safest thing in the world, and we're not exactly in the best place for it if you know what I mean."

I nodded and felt my heart race at the thought. "Erik says we'll be out of here in a couple of months."

"What if we're not?"

"Then I suppose we'll just hope for the best, but I believe we'll be far from this hell hole."

"What makes you think that?"

"Erik says to trust him, and I do."

"Alright, you lazy, no good wenches," shouted the owner of the place as he marched into the kitchen. "Get back to work!"

They scrambled off the floor and went back to wiping dishes and tables, but the entire day, I found myself thinking about the life that could be growing inside of me and how on earth I was going to tell Erik that he's the one who put it there.


	13. Chapter 13: The Worst Days of My Life

Chapter 13

 **And today in excuses as to why author hasn't updated: Well, I graduated, went on vacation, college orientation, worked a job, started rehearsals for a show, and now, I'm about to have another job, but don't worry because I'm not going to leave you hanging on a chapter as sad as this one. Even I'm not that cruel. Don't hate me... yet.**

 **Love ya,**

 **E.B.**

"You're awfully quiet, Christine. Is something wrong? Do you feel sick again?" Erik asked as he placed another folder of music in his case.

"No," I answered with a sigh. "I just keep thinking of how lonely it will be here tonight without you. Do you have to go, Erik? It's Christmas."

He gave me a small sympathetic smile. "You know the answer to that Christine. This is a holiday in which people feel generous. If you ever want to get out of here, we're going to have to take every opportunity we can get."

I wanted to cry because I knew he was right, but every time I felt my hand touch my waist, I just kept wondering how I was ever going to tell Erik the news when he was never home long enough to discuss the matter. I couldn't hide the secret forever. It would reveal itself sooner or later.

He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face towards him. I looked away somehow thinking that it would hide my tears. "I know this has been hard on you," he said gently, "but it's all going much smoother than we thought. There hasn't been a single bump in the road, and I promise that next Christmas, we'll spend every moment side by side – alone."

I winced slightly after he turned away. We wouldn't be alone. We would be alone with our child, the child he didn't know I was carrying. That thought plagued my mind day by day by day, and he didn't have the slightest clue.

"Next Christmas isn't what is on my mind, Erik. I want to spend this Christmas with you," I snapped as a tear trailed down my cheek.

He knitted his eyebrows the way he did when he wasn't certain of something as he put his hands on his waist. "Christine, stop that. You're behaving like a child."

"You're the one behaving like a child."

"I'm trying to work, Christine. We can't move on with our lives unless I do. Now, is that what you want? Do you want to live in the gutter your entire life?"

Oh, we could move on with our lives. It was just in ways he probably hadn't thought about.

I stood. "Well, living in the gutter wouldn't be so bad if I actually got to be in your company every once in a while. You're never here! I don't want money if it means I can't have you."

"You can have me, Christine, just not today!"

He had raised his voice at that point, and I felt fear strike me. It was the same familiar sensation I used to get at the Opera Populaire when he had done something he shouldn't have. He was capable of anything, and for the first time in a long time, I was actually afraid of him.

My arms wrapped themselves protectively around my waist as I cowered down, but he didn't seem to notice.

He breathed heavily for a moment and then looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry for everything, Christine. This just has to be done."

And just like that, he was gone.

I sank down the wall as I let tears spill over my eyes. Why did we fight? Why was it always stupid when we did? It was always my fault. I peeked over my shoulder out the window and saw a dark figure marching its way through the snow, his scarf blowing in the cold December wind.

A group of poor children sang on the sidewalk below. I could hear them singing below, and I cried. All I could picture was my child dressed in rags singing with his beautiful voice in the streets below, and despite how beautiful the sound, he was ignored because of his dingy appearance. My heart broke. I pictured him smiling even though he was poor and was a bastard child.

Oh, my child was a bastard! I hadn't even thought of that. Erik and I weren't married. I cried harder. How could I have made so many mistakes at one time? I hated myself in that moment. I hated everything in that moment including Erik.

It was easily the worst night of my life, and it didn't really go up from there, not for what seemed like a long time anyways. A string of events followed that cause me to look back on that month with tears. I am surprised I even have any left.

A day or so following Christmas, I finally caught Erik alone for a moment and asked him how he would feel about us getting married to which he replied: "We've no time for that right now, Christine. We've our whole lives for that. Why must we do it now?"

He then pecked a kiss on the back of my hand as he typically did and left without me being able to say another word about the matter.

The more I confided in Meg, the more she stressed the importance of telling Erik the truth. I knew she was right. She didn't even have to tell me that for me to know it was true. I couldn't tell him though because he was never around. I started to think that if he could just hand me some money he would ditch me for good so he could work. Meg always tried to assure me that he was just doing what he was doing for me, but it never helped. It had come to the point that I couldn't sleep at night until he came home because I was always worried that he wouldn't come back. He loved his job, and I had begun to believe that he loved it more than me.

Finally, New Year's Eve rolled around, and he was babbling on about some party he had been hired to play for. He grabbed his case full of music and kissed the back of my hand before plopping his hat on his head and retreating through the doorframe.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Erik, I'm with child!" I shouted before his foot could touch the top step.

He turned around, shock written on his face. "What?"

"I am with child," I said shakily again as my fingers grazed the bottom of my stomach.

I must admit that I had expected to see a number of emotions on his face. I had prepared for surprise, joy, and sadness, but I hadn't prepared to see the expression he did show – anger.

"You're what?" he half-shouted.

"I am with child," I said slowly once more as he approached me, a menacing look in his eyes.

I tried to back away, but he was too fast and too strong for me. He seized my shoulders and lifted my body to his face.

"Whose bastard is it?" he shouted at me as I sobbed partly from pain and partly from fear.

"Erik's it's yours. It has to be." I cried looking away from his face.

"It can't be! I can't produce an offspring. Now, whose is it so I can tear him limb from limb!"

"It's yours, Erik, I swear my life on it!"

"I don't believe you!" he snapped. He threw my body harshly, and I stumbled back, falling on the bed. "Now, I'm going to work, and when I get back, you better be ready to tell me the truth!"

He snatched up his bag as I sobbed with my arms wrapped tightly around my torso. "I'm telling the truth!" I cried at the top of my lungs as his footsteps echoed down the stairwell.

The last thing I remember is Meg scrambling in the room asking if I was alright before I collapsed in her arms.


	14. Chapter 14: No One Is Alone

Chapter 14

 **See, I told you guys it wouldn't be long. Anyways…**

"Christine," Meg muttered softly as we washed dishes. I was trying to hide my sobs as I dried glasses one by one. "Christine," she repeated, "you've got to talk to Erik. It's been days, and you're both miserable."

"He doesn't want to talk, Meg," I squeaked out. "He doesn't believe me, and I can't do anything to change that. Besides, it's not like he's ever home. He's always at this hotel, that bar, this restaurant. He's seen half of New York while we're stuck in this hell hole. I'm angry with him, Meg. I don't wish to speak with him just as he with me."

"He's been home even less than he has been before the two of you fought. I didn't even think that was possible."

I sniffled. "Can I be very frank with you, Meg?"

"To be fair, Christine, I don't think things could be any more intense than they are already."

"I think Erik might be having an affair," I said barely above my breath.

She gasped. "Christine, you can't be serious. He's done lots of things, but I don't think he'd ever be capable of that."

"Why shouldn't he be? He's murdered. He's lied. He's stolen. He's an adulterer. Why shouldn't I have any reason to believe that he's a cheater too?"

"Christine!" she scolded, "that's enough! You and I both know he's loyal to you."

"Do we, Meg?"

"You're just saying that because you're angry with him."

"Perhaps, but really think about it, Meg. Do we really know?"

She looked at me for a moment then sighed. "Fine, if you believe in this nonsense, why don't you just follow him one night and see for yourself? I'll cover your shift, and when I'm right, which I am, you owe me."

I huffed and nodded. "Deal."

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I pulled my cloak around me as I watched from the back of the restaurant. Meg was right. All he had done was sit and play the piano all night long, the same scowl etched in his features. The night wasn't quite over yet, however, and most of the band was putting away their instruments as Erik played one final song. Some nights, he didn't come home at all. Perhaps this would be the moment of truth as to where he goes.

The song ended, and he stuffed the sheet music in his briefcase before snatching up with a grunt. He started to storm out of the lobby. I pulled my hood around my face and began to scamper off after him when I ran into a body that was much taller and sturdier than my own.

I looked up into the face of Dr. Gangle who had an eyebrow raised and his arms folded.

"Miss Christine," he said calmly, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I felt my cheeks grow hot as I looked at the floor. "I had come with Erik to hear you play. I suppose he forgot I was here. You know how he is when he gets wrapped up in his music. I'd best be going so he doesn't get too far ahead of me."

I started to run off, but he outsmarted me and blocked my path. "Miss Christine, I hope you don't think that I mean to invade your personal life, but I know you had a fight with Erik. I am concerned about him. I've never seen him this upset, and considering you are here following him alone in the night, I suppose I must be concerned for you as well."

I felt tears prick my eyes as I quickly shook my head. "I can take care of myself, doctor. We will resolve these issues. I am sure of it. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He blocked my path again and sighed. "I don't mean to pry," he said gently, "but won't you at least tell me why you're here not speaking to him?"

I twisted my hands and looked at the floor again. "I was following him," I confessed. "I thought perhaps that he was going somewhere other than work at night, so I came to see for myself. I know that it's silly."

He shook his head. "It's not silly. He's out until morning some nights. I know. He doesn't just go to work."

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Then where does he go? Surely he doesn't…"

He shook his head and placed his hands gently on my shoulders. "No, Miss Christine, nothing like that. He's been staying with different members of the band. That's all. I don't know what your fight was about exactly, but it has him pretty shaken up. He hasn't really spoken at all. I don't know as much about Erik as you do perhaps, but I still can tell that his life hasn't been easy. I don't want to push him anymore than I have to. He doesn't speak, eat, or sleep. I am concerned. Won't you please tell me what is wrong, Miss Christine?"

"No," I said softly, "you probably already think I am a terrible person for following him. I don't want you thinking even less of me."

"I won't," he said reassuringly. "I can tell that you are a deeply caring young lady. We all make mistakes. Please, I just want to help you both."

I teared up as I thought for a moment and glanced around at the tourists in the hotel. "Alright," I said finally, "I'll tell you, but could we talk in some place more private?"

He took my arm and led me to a back room in the hall of the hotel. It appeared to be an empty ballroom perhaps, but he left the door open for light.

"Miss Christine, what is wrong?" he asked softly.

Tears trailed down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around myself. "Well, Erik is never home…" I began.

"Yes, but you've fought about such things before. Surely that is not the only reason you are upset."

"No, it isn't," I sniffled.

"What is it, Miss Christine? I assure you that I will do my best to help you – to help Erik."

I looked up and bit my lip. "I found out…" I gasped for air and squeezed my eyes shut. Dr. Gangle would think me a terrible woman.

"You found out what?"

"I am with child," I said barely above a whisper. "It's Erik's. I know that for certain. He's the only man I've ever been with in that way, but he doesn't believe me. He doesn't believe the child is his, and that hurts me more than I can tell you."

Gangle looked down at the floor with a confused expression on his face. "Why would he think the child is not his?"

"It's complicated," I sighed. "He doesn't believe that he could father a child. Where he gets that assumption, I have no idea. He's never been told otherwise as far as he knows. I just think he doesn't want to admit that it's a possibility. I don't think he wants a child, so he runs away. Little does he know that I need him."

I looked down at the floor ashamed of myself as Dr. Gangle looked me up and down. I cried as he stared at me. I thought he would scold me, but he didn't. He reached out and grabbed my hand before kissing the back of it.

"I will fix this, Christine if you trust me. Perhaps Erik will not speak to you, but he will speak to me."

I shook my head. "I don't want to drag you into this. Erik and I should be able to fix our own problems."

"You have, Miss Christine. You had the courage to tell me the truth when you could have easily lied. You have done the right thing, and it will pay off. I promise. Just know that I am here for you. I do wish to be your friend just as I am Erik's. He has done the wrong thing, and as his friend, it is my duty to tell him as much. Do not cry, Miss Christine. This will all blow over, and you will laugh one day."

"Dr. Gangle, do you think me a terrible person for what I have done?"

He shook his head and held my hand in both of his. "No, Miss Christine. I would never think that way of you. I just believe you are a young girl who made an unfortunate mistake, but you are not alone. You will see."


	15. Chapter 15: Straighten Up

Chapter 15

 **So, I'm going to try something that might be fun. Leave me questions about any of my stories in the reviews, and I'll answer in my next chapters. I thought it would be a good idea because it will inspire me to write faster which means you guys get to read chapters sooner, so the more you ask, the more I'll publish. Have at it, and have fun!**

 **-E. B.**

"Dr. Gangle, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I heard Meg say from behind the bar as I finished fixing up a dish in the kitchen.

"I need to talk to Miss Christine. Is she here?"

"I am," I said coming through the doorway from behind the bar. I set the plate down in front of the customer who ordered it and walked back to Gangle.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Could I have a word with you please?"

I looked at Meg who nodded in return. I took my apron off and gestured for him to follow me back into the kitchen.

"What is it, Gangle?" I asked softly. "Did you speak to Erik?"

He sighed. "Sort of. He's bought a tent."

"A tent?"

"Yes, he plans on starting an elaborate magic show with the band for music. He's already composed it and everything. We rehearsed today. It's actually very good. If this works, it could mean a lot of money for all of us."

"Well, that's great," I said trying my best to sound happy for them. "Erik hadn't told me…"

"Well, to be fair, the two of you aren't on the best of terms."

I nodded. "You're right. Did you talk to him thought?"

"I tried. It was kind of difficult because the band was around. I'm worried about him though, Christine."

"Why is that? He's obviously getting on pretty well without me."

"He isn't, Christine," he said softly before putting his hand on my shoulder. "Another reason I couldn't talk to him is because he couldn't hold a conversation. He had the craziest look in his eyes, Christine. It was almost as if he had been drinking, but I don't think it was that because he was responding clearly enough. He just seemed… I don't know… out of it?"

My eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to think of what it might be. "I wouldn't know anything about that. Perhaps he's sick."

"Perhaps," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck indicating that he didn't think that was the problem.

"You know what's wrong with him don't you?"

"I do," he sighed, "but I won't worry you. This will all blow over when the two of you get back together. The trick is just trying to figure out how we're going to do that."

"I'm so sorry I dragged you into this, Gangle," I sighed.

"You didn't," he said gently. "I wanted to help. I have to go now though. I have a patient to see, but I will be back to check on you tomorrow." He kissed the back of my hand and put his hat back on before walking out of the kitchen. I saw him mutter something to Meg before he left. She nodded, and he was gone.

Later that night, I received a package which our boss brought up. When I opened it, there was a short note from Gangle that said that he had noticed my sweater was ripped. I looked down at the little jacket I had brought from France. Holes decorated the sleeves and pockets of the once nice garment. I unfolded the wrappings to find a dark pink colored cardigan like the one I was wearing. I picked it up out of the box and held it to my nose. It smelled of fresh cotton just like a Parisian dress shop.

"Gangle told me to make sure you got that," she said gently.

"It's the nicest thing I've touched since we got off the boat from France," I said, my voice shaking.

Meg looked at me with a soft smile as I wrapped the sweater around me and fell over on the bed, tears in my eyes at the sheer joy of having something from someone who cared for me.

He came the next day as promised and met me in the kitchen. I thanked him for everything which he brushed off as if it were nothing. He let me know what Erik was up to even though he still hadn't gotten the chance to speak with him in private.

We went on like that for about a week, and I would be lying if I said that I didn't look forward to seeing him every day. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

As I was thanking him that day, he kissed the back of my hand as usual, but I wanted to show him how grateful that I really was for his friendship. I wrapped my arms around his waist in a tight embrace. He smiled and rested his hand on my back sweetly.

Why was it that I only have to make a mistake once to suffer the consequences?

I heard a slam, and as I looked up, I saw Erik's fist bleeding from where he had punched the wall.

"Erik," I said quickly, "this isn't what you think!"

Dr. Gangle was right. He looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, and it looked like he hadn't combed his hair in a week.

"I'm sorry, Erik," Gangle said gently with his hands up in surrender. "I meant no harm. I was just trying to show her a little sympathy until you came to your senses."

"I have come to my senses," Erik snapped. "It's his child isn't it?" he asked with poison dripping from his voice.

"What? No! No, Erik that's not even possible!" I protested.

He marched in the kitchen and grabbed my shoulders harshly. "You know it is! Why would I ever believe you would be loyal to a monster like me? Why would I ever believe that such a beautiful woman who could win anyone would want me?"

"I do, Erik!" I shouted. "Let me go! You're hurting me! I do want you!"

"You want me when you're vulnerable. That's it! You want me when you're like this because you know I'm capable of anything!"

"Erik, stop!" Gangle shouted. "She's not cheating on you, and she never would."

"Erik, this isn't you. You don't act like this. What's wrong with you?" I asked as I cringed in pain from his grip. "Erik, please stop this nonsense! Please, you're hurting me! You're hurting your child!"

Just then, a loud _smack_ rang through the kitchen as Gangle's fist met Erik's jaw. I gasped and fell back.

Erik, who was usually very coordinated, suddenly couldn't even get off of the floor. He tried but only fell back on his bottom over and over again as he looked around the room. His eyes looked like they were trying their best to focus on one object at a time.

Meg ran in to see what the commotion was and crossed her arms as soon as she saw Erik. "You did it again didn't you?" Meg scolded as she shook her head.

"I was in a tight spot," Erik said, his speech slurred just a bit as he glared at her.

"That's not an excuse, Erik."

"You would have done the same."

"Did what?" I asked with my voice shaking.

Meg looked up at me, her body ridged with anger. "Erik had a little problem when he was in the Middle East. When he came to France, he was addicted to a drug they have there. He's been clean for a long time, but apparently he was 'in a tight spot.'"

I watched Gangle as his jaw clenched in anger. "You knew," I said to him.

"I see this drug all of the time," he confessed, "but I didn't want to worry you anymore than you already were." He glared back at Erik and snatched him by the collar of his shirt. "Come on, you imbecile. We're going to have a little chat because you've officially crossed a line."

Gangle pretty much had to drag Erik out of the kitchen, and he slammed the door behind them. I was shaking terribly. My brain hadn't even processed all that had happened.

"Meg," I said softly, "this was a mistake. I thought Erik could change, but he can't. Now, I'm stuck here in America. I want to go home."

She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me. "He can change, Christine. You and I have both seen it. Give him another chance. He's just so in shock about your news. The man has gone from having no one to having the love of his life and her child to provide for. Everything will be alright, Christine. I promise."

"Everyone keeps saying that, Meg, but it just keeps getting worse."

"You are a cruel bastard, you know that!" I heard Gangle shout. "Now, here's what you're going to do, and you're going to do it unless you want to be on the streets alone for the rest of your life. You're going to come to my practice. You're going to straighten your ass out, and you're going to spend the rest of your life making up for the mistakes you've made the past few weeks. Then you're going to marry Christine, and you'll have your baby. You're going to have the life you never thought you'd have, and I'm not giving up on you until you do. Do you understand that? Christine is the best thing in your life. She's beautiful, kind, wonderful, everything a man could want, and you know what? She loves your stupid ass for some reason, and I'm not going to let you take advantage of that."

There was a long silence.

"Okay," was all I heard Erik mutter.

"Good!" Gangle said sternly before I heard another _smack_. "And that was for hurting your girl!"

I don't remember being more terrified than I was back then. The bad news was that my life couldn't have gotten any worse. The good news is that it could only go up from there, and it did. It surely did.


	16. Chapter 16: No One Else

Chapter 16

 **Question thing still open. I had already had this written when I typed that up. I wasn't thinking about the fact that I could have just put it on this one. Oh well. Ask me stuff about any of my stories or anything else. The more questions, the faster I update (Mostly just because I need incentive. I'm so easily distracted when I try to write, but if I'm panicked trying to make ya'll happy, it makes me write faster which is why I couldn't post that last chapter and not this one too... Anyways, I talk too much.). Love ya'll. Keep reading. - E. B.**

It was early morning a couple of days later when there was a knock at the door. I groaned as I woke from my sleep and went to open the door. It was Erik.

He stood in front of me in a nice suit, his hair combed back and his tie perfectly straight. He had a bouquet of my favorite flowers in his hands, and he looked down at the floor with guilt written across his face.

"Yes?" I asked simply as I stood looking up at him timidly.

He wasn't wearing his mask, but there were bandages in an odd array that covered his deformity. I could tell he had bruises under each of his eyes. Even the un-deformed side of his face was swollen and puffy.

He cleared his throat. "I came to apologize to you, Christine. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I would certainly be grateful for it if you decided to grant it to me."

I sighed and shifted my feet. "Erik, I don't think it can be that simple. You left me alone every day. You accused me of cheating on you when I told you about our child and when you saw me with Gangle even though all I was doing was thanking him. You promised you would take care of me, and you didn't. I nearly froze every night, and it was Gangle that provided me with a new sweater when it should have been you. You have been very uncivil, Erik. You turned to drugs instead of asking for my forgiveness and God only knows what else. I know it's been hard on you to adjust to your new life here, but I wouldn't lie to you. This child it yours, Erik, and I want you to love it and care for it as its father. I don't know if I can allow that though if I am afraid you won't be here or that you might lash out when things aren't going exactly the way that you planned."

A tear trailed down his cheek. The Phantom was crying. No, he was sobbing. He made an audible cry as I finished what I was saying.

"I know," was all he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, and I'm sorry."

I opened to door a little wider and stepped towards him before wrapping my arms around him. "I can forgive you, Erik," I muttered, "but I have to know I can trust you first."

He nodded and sobbed as he held me tightly to his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt safe in his arms once again instead of terrified. I could smell his cologne on his shirt, and I buried my face in it as he planted a long and hard kiss in my hair.

When he eventually let me go, he held me away from his face so he could get a good look at me. He eyed my stomach and gave a small smile.

"That's my son," he said in disbelief.

I grabbed his hands and placed them over where the baby was starting to show. "Or your daughter," I corrected.

He gave a small laugh as a tear trailed down his cheek. He kissed my forehead but cringed slightly as he pulled back.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

He sighed and placed his hand over the bandages on his nose. "Yes, I'm fine. Gangle broke my nose." I took a good look and realized what I thought was a bandage over his nose was actually a cast. "Small price to pay for what I did to you I suppose."

I bit my lip trying not to smile, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. I laughed out loud as he winced in pain.

He looked as me as if I'd gone insane, but I just smiled and shook my head. "I'm sorry," I said as I laughed, "it's just that you kind of deserved it."

He couldn't help but give a small laugh as he watched me. "You're right."

He waited for me to stop laughing before he grabbed each of my hands and stepped towards me. "I'm going to make it up to you, Christine," he said seriously. "It may take me my entire life, but I will do it. That I can promise you with all of my life, and I know you want to know you can trust me which is why if you say yes to this, I will let you decide when. I can't help but thinking about our future though, and I know after those few weeks in hell, I never want to be apart from you again." He lowered himself to one knee and pulled a simple ring out of his pocket. "I know it's not much. I know I'm not much, but I promise you that I'll spend every day trying to make you the happiest woman alive from now on if you'll make me the happiest man alive in this moment and say you will marry me."

I closed my eyes and sighed. I only can recall lying once to Erik in my entire life, and this would be the moment. I was terrified. I didn't want to say yes right then. Of course I loved him, but after everything we had been through, it didn't seem like the most logical thing to do. What can I say? Love makes you do stupid things sometimes, and seeing him there with his blue eyes pleading with mine, I couldn't resist.

"Yes, Erik, nothing would make me happier."

And for the first time, he kissed me without me having to kiss him first, and I felt all of the knots in my stomach from all of the stress melt away. He was going to change. He was going to do it for me, and though perhaps I lied about nothing making me happier, I definitely felt honored to have such a man who would make such a change for me and no one else.


	17. Chapter 17: Freedom

Chapter 17

 **First question! Alright!**

 **To Marzz: Well, I can kind of answer all of those questions in one whack. I'm a flow-of-thought writer, so your guess is as good as mine as to what could happen next. I know, however, that's not really a fair answer, so I'm going to try to give you some honest answers here.**

 **As to the drug addiction, that wasn't even the original plan. I just really needed a way to make a point that he was not okay. As of right now, I don't see that making a reappearance, but you never know.**

 **And the My Fair Lady fic! Ugh, I'm so glad I at least have one person who follows that! To tell you the truth, I haven't started on the next chapter yet. I know what I want to happen. It's just the matter of how to get it all out there. It's kind of funny because I don't really like to read my own writing, so I don't revise or edit anything I post here. Sometimes I have to go back and read chapters though to remind myself what I've written, and I find so many errors. I think on the last chapter of this, I found a sentence that had the same word in it three times. I wanted to slap myself.**

 **Just for you though, I think I'm going to try to write another chapter of that today and get it out there to you. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask, even if it's something stupid. Haha, I love hearing from my readers! I promise I read every review and take them whole-heartedly.**

 **With love,**

 **E. B.**

All of the sudden, I turned around, and it was May.

After Erik apologized, our relationship improved greatly. He became a much more sensible man, and he had begun to accept our child.

We were still stuck in the old bar. It hadn't been as easy to scrape money together for an apartment when I had to have new clothes to make room for my growing stomach. I think Meg, Erik, and I could all agree though that we were happier than we were before.

Erik tried his best to take everyone's opinions into consideration instead of going off and trying to figure everything out on his own. Yes, we were all much happier than we were before.

That didn't mean things had particularly gotten any easier.

It had gotten much warmer by the final week of May, and being an expecting mother in a hot kitchen was not exactly an ideal. I tried my best not to complain, however. I knew we could have had it much worse.

I felt disgusting when I had to take food to the customers though. I was always sweating like a pig, and my feet had begun to swell a bit. Sometimes, I had to take my shoes off because they got too tight. I was really surprised we hadn't lost more customers than we did. Meg was a better bartender than me though, and our slimy boss was not about to let us switch jobs.

Erik asked me every night how my day went, and I always replied that it was pleasant which was not a lie. I had actually begun to enjoy my time there. It was just hotter than hell!

Then finally, my fear had come true one day when it was hotter than usual. I was taking food out to a customer. It actually was supposed to go to someone at the bar which was Meg's job, but I was looking for any excuse to get out of that hot kitchen.

"Chrissy, are you okay?" Meg asked as I set the plate down before wiping the sweat off of my brow.

"I just need to cool off for a moment," I replied.

"Are you sure? You're turning pale."

I could feel my body swaying, and before I had time to process what was happening, my body hit the floor.

It wasn't until I had woken up an hour or so later with Erik sitting over me that I realized what happened. He gently hushed me as I tried to sit up. He was pressing a cool cloth to my forehead, and I could see that our window was open as wide as he could get it.

"Christine," he said softly, "Meg said that the heat had gotten to you. Are you alright?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. Go back to work. You didn't have to leave for my sake."

He smiled and flipped the rag over so it was cooler, and I moaned in delight.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb and looked up at Meg with a sigh. "That's it. We've got to get out of here."

Meg folded her arms. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"I buy an apartment," he said as if it were no big deal.

"Uh huh, and where is the money from that going to come from?"

"My bank account," he stated nonchalantly.

"Yeah, right," she replied.

"Meg," I finally said forcing myself to sit up, "I can tell when Erik is being sarcastic, and he's not. He means it."

Erik grinned and looked at both of us. "I close on a deal tomorrow. I was going to wait to tell you then, but I suppose it's as good of a time as any."

"Oh, Erik, do you mean it?" I exclaimed excitedly.

He nodded, and I threw my arms around him as Meg twirled around excitedly. He laughed. "More and more people have been coming to see our show, and one of the trombone players in our band is an accountant. He's been helping me with my savings plans. What can I say? It worked!"

"Oh, Erik, where is it?" I asked.

"Is it still in Manhattan?" Meg repeated after me.

"Is it in a tall building?"

"What floor or we on?"

"Slow down, you two!" he shouted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Don't get too excited. It's very modest. It only has a living area and one bedroom. The bare minimum of furniture we need is already in it. It's dingy, but it's furniture none the less. If I can just keep going like I'm going though, I don't think we'll have to be there long."

I sighed. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy we're moving out of here, but that's what you said about this place too."

"It's only been seven months, Christine. That's not really that long, not compared to the long life we're going to share together."

"Okay, I'm out," Meg said as he grabbed my hands. "You two love birds have your moment. I'm going to go gloat to our rat of a boss that he's not getting his free labor anymore."

Erik and I both laughed as Meg untied her apron and ran out of the room shouting "freedom" as the apron flew like a flag behind her.

I grabbed Erik's face and kissed him. "Do you think this marks the moment where we start to truly live our lives together?" I asked.

He smiled, and I could see his eyes fill with happy tears. "I hope so, my Christine. I hope so."


	18. Chapter 18: Sacrifice

Chapter 18

 **Wow, it's been a while. So, I did a show. Then I had writer's block, and now, I'm officially a college student. Basically, everything's been crazy, and I'm really sorry for the lack of updates.**

 **Anyways, I have a Music Man one shot that I will not be publishing, but if any of you are interested in reading it, please, please, please message me. I would still love to share.**

 **Keep reading – E. B.**

I sat in a creaky, wooden chair by the window. My swollen feet were propped up in the window sill as my hand rested on my stomach. My eyes drooped as I started to fall asleep, the sun warming the little living area of our new apartment.

Erik was working, and Meg had gone out to fetch a paper. It was the first time in months that I could remember having any time to myself. The sounds of New York City clanged below as a soft May breeze blew my curls out of my face for me.

Things had finally calmed down, but life was far from perfect. I was outgrowing all of my dresses which were made for winter anyway, and it was getting very hot. Our little place only had two rooms, one being a bedroom, which made our living arrangement for three a bit awkward.

Erik had wished for Meg and me to share the bedroom, but Meg insisted that Erik and I needed our time alone. I don't know precisely what was going through Erik's mind at the time, but I knew that I was panicking at that thought. How could a share a space with him when we weren't married? Of course, we told our landlord that we were and that Meg was my sister who had just immigrated to America. It was a bit hard to believe, but the landlord accepted the story anyway.

Nevertheless, Erik and I took the room, but I put pillows between us in the bed, partially for proprieties' sake and partly because it was the only way I could sleep with the poor child that was growing in my stomach.

It was also very hot. At least a breeze stirred in the Manhattan streets. Though the city smelled, there was really no other choice but to keep the windows up at all times. When Erik came home, he always looked on me with pity as he saw what was typically sweat pouring down my brow. I smiled anyways. I thought I should do what I could to make Erik happy. After all, he had done that for me.

I was pondering all of this as Meg came through the door excitedly waving a newspaper. "Erik is on the front page!" she shouted causing me to turn around in my seat.

She threw the pages in my hands, and I gazed upon its cover in disbelief. There was Erik standing on his make-shift stage. His cape and mask adorned him as he entertained the children who stood in awe in front of him. It appeared to be a picture of the bit Erik did with the pigeon up his sleeve which honestly even amazed me. I had no idea how he did such a thing.

"This could be the break-through Erik has been waiting for!" Meg said with glee as she looked over the paper with me.

She was right. Within a few days, more and more people began attending Erik's shows, and he gradually added more tricks that got him featured in more papers. His imagination was finally getting the budget that it needed to run wild; however, he had learned something from the first go around. He didn't make the same mistake twice.

At dinner, about two weeks after the first article was published, we sat at dinner together when Erik brought up an ad he had found for a two bedroom apartment. He said that he thought he should buy it, but I could see in his eyes that he really had something else in mind.

"What is it?" I asked as I shut the bedroom door behind me for the night.

"What is what?" he retorted.

"I can tell something is bothering you."

"Christine, don't be ridiculous. I'm fine."

"Erik, you can slip a lot past me, but your attitude is not one of them. Please don't hide it from me."

He sighed. "I found an apartment, yes, but there's also a plot of land available beside the piece that I already own. I could expand the show and add much more to it."

"Couldn't we do both? I mean, we might have to scrape by for a few weeks, but it's nothing that we aren't used to."

"I'm afraid not. With the purchase of only land, there would be so much more to go to it. I would have to expand the stage, perhaps add a backstage. There would be more production elements. The whole thing would just be full of extra expense which would keep me from paying the bill on the apartment. Besides, I don't want you scraping by in your condition."

"I'm not made of glass, you know?"

"I know, but sometimes I am. It would make me feel better knowing that you were fine."

I sat on the bed beside him and took his hand. He had made a sacrifice for me. Now, I was going to do the same. "Buy the land, Erik."

"What?"

"Buy the land," I repeated. "You have big dreams for that place. I can see it in your eyes. Who am I to take that away from you?"

"Christine, you're not taking anything away from me."

"Perhaps you don't see it that way, but I couldn't live with myself knowing that you could have this opportunity. With the popularity of your show, you'll need to take that piece of land before some restaurant or other thing of entertainment does. You don't want competition. Please, Erik, let me do this for you."

He smiled and squeezed my hand before turning out the lights.

The next morning, he showed me the deed to his new patch of the earth. It occurred to me that I hadn't told Meg about our discussion, so I quickly explained. I saw, however, a sadness in her eyes. I knew that she needed her own space, but I didn't think that it would hurt her to wait just a bit longer for it. I think that Meg had different ideas.


	19. Chapter 19: Notes

Chapter 19

 **Bet you guys thought I would never update this thing. Sigh… being a theatre major requires a helluva lot of hours. That's all I'm going to say.**

Between the heat of May and the pain in my back, I had the worst night of sleep of my life. Meanwhile, Erik was having the best, and I spent a long time just looking at him. He was peaceful, which is one of the few times I can ever recall seeing him that way. His hand still drooped over the deformed side of his face however almost to say, "I trust you but not completely." His mask still rested on the bedside table as well, and I was willing to bet my life that if I had tried to wake him, he would have snatched it up and put it in its traditional place in one smooth motion.

I didn't wake him though, much to my surprise, as I got up late in the night. The heat in the place made sweat form on my brow and my curly bangs stick to my forehead. I strolled into the next room and fixed myself a glass of water from the pail on the counter. I opened the creaking window as quietly as I possibly could and leaned out of it, the night air sweeping through my hair. I took in a deep breath of the Manhattan air. It wasn't clean or appealing, but it was ours. It was our Manhattan. Even though we weren't born in that city, it seemed as though we could make it. We could claim it. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even what I had hoped for, but it was ours. I could accept it. In time, I would grow to love it more than I did in that moment.

I stood there for a long time, contemplating what life might be like in ten years. I had more fears than hopes, but I suppose that knowing that I was with child had something to do with it. Those thoughts were interrupted at some point. I don't know how long it was, but I remember being startled when I heard our front door click.

I turned around quickly to see that no one was there. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Slowly, I turned from the window and tip-toed away from it. My hand subconsciously grabbed a heavy bowl that we had setting on the kitchen table as a defense mechanism. As I made my way towards the door, however, I quickly realized that it was not someone who came in the door but rather someone who went out.

Our door creaked terribly, but I managed to open it a peek with only a small sound to show for it. I thought perhaps Erik or Meg had gone to use the lavatory in the middle of the night. Instead, my eyes glanced out of the tiny crack just in time to see Meg dipping down the stairs at the end of the hallway.

I was terribly confused. Just a few moments ago, Meg appeared to be sleeping soundly on the sofa as I drank my glass of water. I turned back to the sofa to assure myself that I wasn't just imagining things, and alas, she was not there. Perhaps, Meg believed that I was still in the bedroom with Erik. Perhaps, she thought I wouldn't notice because I was so deep in thought. Perhaps, she didn't' care what I thought about her sneaking out at all. I couldn't say.

I started to go get Erik and tell him about the incident, but then, I thought better of it. Meg's business was Meg's business. Erik, or even myself, really had no right to interfere. I couldn't help but worry about her though. Wasn't she happy? I would find out in time. Until then, I retreated back to the bedroom, but I left the door a crack so I could watch for when Meg returned. She didn't come back until just before sunrise. She went to bed once more and woke up the next morning. She talked to us as if nothing had happened, so I just pretended the same. There was nothing really more to do.

The next day, Erik went off to work early. He didn't even eat a bite, which I normally forced him to do for my sake. He was so excited to get off to his own little slice of Manhattan, not that I could blame him. If I had the opportunity to have a place of my very own that I could take care of, I would have behaved the exact same way.

He became smart with his money, and by July, he had enough to hire a small team to build up a little theatre. Gangle and the band helped of course. They had become Erik's right hand men in a way. He paid them well, treated them well. Even if Erik's past kept him from appreciating himself, at least it had taught him how to appreciate others and their contributions.

It was something I hadn't thought about until that day when a boy knocked on our door to deliver a message. It was written in Erik's handwriting, but it wasn't entirely his. It was more crooked than usual almost as if his hand had been shaking.

 _Come to Gangle's clinic asap. Yours, Erik._

That was all he wrote.


	20. Chapter 20: Rebirth

Chapter 20

 **Long time, no see, my dudes. Life has been crazy in the fast lane, but I'm hoping to get back to it at least a little bit. Maybe you won't have to wait a whole semester for the next chapter. Here's hoping. - E. B.**

I walked down the street to Gangle's not paying much attention to how out-of-place I must have looked on that side of town. This simple brown fabric, tattered with mud from the street, must have looked out of place amongst the ladies in party dresses and the greenery that stood outside each building. I walked briskly, tugging my bit of tattered shawl around my shoulders as I spotted each glowing number on the sides of the door frames. 351, 353, 355...

Finally, I found it. Dr. Gangle's sign waved somewhat ominously above the doorway. The red, wooden thing swinging back and forth in the slight breeze that was bringing about the impending summer storm. I twisted the golden doorknob and leaned my weight against the sticking door. I looked around the inside waiting room for Erik. I didn't have much time to observe the practice, but I remember it being quaint. There were dark wooden waiting chairs and front desk which contrasted with the black and white tile floors. The walls were painted a calming shade of green. Behind the desk, there were three closed doors, and it appeared that there was a stairway to the left and more rooms to the right. There were cracks spread about in the walls and floors alike. It was clear that the place needed a woman's touch, but it wasn't unpleasant to be there.

I spotted Erik sitting in one of those dark chairs. His forehead was rested in his hands. He looked tired and disheveled. When he heard me sit beside him, he sat up, stroking his hands over his hair in attempt to slick it back once more. He gave a very long sigh as he placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Wisps of black hair fell back into his face.

I folded my hands as I waited for Erik to speak. He opened his mouth and drew a breath without looking at me and simply said, "He fell."

I cleared my throat. "Is he...?"

"He might as well be."

I swallowed hard so I wouldn't tear up and nodded. "How long do you think he will have?"

Erik shook his head and leaned back in the chair, his hands still clasped. "He's not going to die, Christine, but I fear that he's going to wish that he had. It's all my fault."

"Erik, I don't know what happened, but I'm sure you did what you could."

"I told him to go up on the roof. I could see it wasn't going to hold him. I could see that the board was cracked."

"You couldn't have known."

"It doesn't matter now anyways. What's done is done. I just hope he can forgive me."

I wrapped my arms around his and rested my head on his shoulder which I could feel tense up as I touched him. "I'm sure he will, Erik. I'm sure he's not even angry. Neither one of you could have known."

"I just wish I could make it up to him."

"You said that he might wish that he had died. What has happened?"

He sighed once more. He was shaking. "Oliver - you remember Oliver don't you? The trumpet player? Anyway, he was in the room with Gangle when he woke up. He had passed out. When the board broke, he fell straight to the floor. He must have hit his head hard on something coming down. The nurses were running the usual tests. He said that he couldn't see out of his left eye, and his vision was impaired in the other. They've been testing it. He can see shapes, but he can't read words. He can't even tell if there are words on a page."

"He can get glasses, can't he?"

"Christine, I don't think you understand. Gangle is a doctor. More than that, he performs surgeries. He can't operate if he can't see out of one eye. This has ruined his life."

"You don't know that. Don't these things happen sometimes and the vision comes back? Maybe it's just healing. Maybe -"

"Stop it, Christine. We all know that won't happen. It would be too easy. It would be too fair, and life doesn't work that way." I drew in a long sigh. This man was impossible. "I don't think I can face him."

"Would you mind if I went to see him? I know I don't know him very well, but if you won't see him, I feel like one of us should."

He waved his hand telling me to go ahead. I placed my tattered shawl over his shoulders and smoothed my dress before timidly making my way down the narrow hall. The room Gangle was in was open. He sat up in the bed, his leg hanging in some sort of contraption. He was wearing pajamas. The clothes that I presume he was in previously lied on his bedside table, a small, pink spot of blood showing on the collar of his white shirt.

Gangle gave me a weak smile. "Well, I may not be able to see your face, but I know there is only one woman that would ever come to see poor Dr. Gangle. Is that you, Christine?"

I smiled back and sat on his bedside. "You seem to be in awfully good spirits to have just fallen off of a building."

He chuckled. "Well, I can't have the lady thinking that I can't handle such a thing." He winced in pain as he turned his head on his pillow to face me better.

"Can I get you anything? I'm sure I can make a cup of tea better than these boys you've had taking care of you."

He laughed. "Yes, I would actually like that very much." I moved over to the table in the corner of the room where there was a kettle and a few old cups. "Though, I must say, your Erik makes a pretty delightful brew. I haven't seen him though. Where is he?"

I sighed. "Can I be frank with you?"

"Of course."

"Erik is much more distraught over this than you. He thinks this is his fault."

"Pfft! That's ridiculous. It could of happened to any of us, and the results could have been far worse. I've seen it personally."

Seeing that his dominant arm was in a sling, I lifted his cup up to his lips so he could take a sip. He did so and then smiled at me as I set the cup in my lap. "Your Erik is a lucky man. I hope he knows that."

"What were you doing to be up on a roof anyway?"

"Erik told you that we were building a little theatre didn't he?"

"I suppose he did, but I had forgotten about it. You already have a roof on it?"

"Well, not exactly. There's a gaping hole in it that really should be fixed. Someone could fall through."

I laughed and shook my head as he chuckled at his own joke. I gave him another sip of tea, and as I pulled the cup away from his lips, he seemingly turned serious. He looked away from me, thinking.

"Dr. Gangle," I said rather softly, "do you think your sight will get better."

He sighed. "No, Christine, I don't think it will."

"What will you do now?"

He thought for a long minute. "I suppose I must sell this place. I have no reason for a small hospital if I can't operate. The revenue from that should be enough to sustain me for a little while. Then, I don't know."

"Will you still stick with Erik? I know it would mean the world to him if you did. You've become his best friend. Erik has never had many of those."

"I will do the best I can, Christine. It will be hard for a while though. I can't see to read. Glasses may help, but I can't even make out if the page is blank, sheet music, a poem. I don't know if I could read the music."

There was a dreadfully long silence. I'm sure I looked as if I was in as deep of thought as him. I let him finish his tea then told him that I was going to wash the cup, but I really went to see Erik.

"How is he?" he asked.

I told him that he was fine, in good spirits, and in no way at all upset with Erik. I did tell him though that his fears were confirmed. Gangle had no job now.

"I did have an idea though," I said timidly. "I was just thinking about how kind Gangle has been to us. He paid you generously. He's really the one that got us out of that dust bin of a bar. Maybe we could return the favor."

"How?"

"Your show has been going well hasn't it?"

"Yes, but he can't read the music anymore, Christine."

"I know that. Hear me out. You spend so much time figuring out costs and making negotiations to buy materials and such. Perhaps, when Gangle gets back on his feet and is more confident in his abilities, you could make him your partner. He could take care of the bookkeeping, booking some additional acts maybe, paychecks. Gangle is smart. He could do it, and paperwork isn't as urgent as music. He could take his time reading it. He wouldn't have to know that second. He's your friend, Erik. You don't want to lose him because of an accident. Besides, if you make him a partner, you're kind of repaying him. He's going to lose his home. Help him pay for a new one the same way he did for us."

Erik put his hands on my cheeks and kissed my forehead. "You are so kind, Christine. I had no meaningful life before you."

I could feel my cheeks turn red. "It was just a sensible idea. One of you probably would have thought of it eventually."

"I can't offer him much, but I can offer him that. Come with me. The least we can do is offer this man a new beginning."

I took his hand, and together, that's exactly what we did.


End file.
